Classic Poetry

Romance, who loves to nod and singWith drowsy head and folded wingAmong the green leaves as they shakeFar down within some shadowy lake,To me a painted paroquetHath been—most familiar bird—Taught me my alphabet to say,To lisp my very earliest wordWhile in the wild wood I did lie,A child—with a most knowing eye.

Of late, eternal condor yearsSo shake the very Heaven on highWith tumult as they thunder by,I have no time for idle caresThrough gazing on the unquiet sky;And when an hour with calmer wingsIts down upon my spirit flings,That little time with lyre and rhymeTo while away—forbidden things—My heart would feel to be a crimeUnless it trembled with the strings.

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About the Author
Edgar Allen Poe (1809-1849) was born in Boston, Massachusetts, to parents who were itinerant actors. His father David Poe Jr. died probably in 1810. Elizabeth Hopkins Poe died in 1811, leaving three children. Edgar was taken into the home of a Richmond merchant John Allan. The remaining children were cared for by others. Poe's brother William died young and sister Rosalie become later insane... Read Edgar Allen Poe's Full Biography